


Septiplier Drabbles

by sinnamonstache (cinnamon_grump)



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-05-12 18:10:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5675614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnamon_grump/pseuds/sinnamonstache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short works and half baked fic ideas that I might never elaborate on.</p>
<p>May range from fluff to smut to (pretty dark) angst. Some may include other people/characters. I will be putting warnings in notes before each piece.</p>
<p>I'll be posting them as they come to me, or otherwise from the huge word document filled with unfinished pieces.</p>
<p>Feel free to do what you will with these; you can even write actual stories with them if it strikes you, draw a scene if it tickles your fancy, what ever you wish! I only ask that if you make anything from these, please share it with me so I can see ^_^</p>
<p>Also, I doubt it needs to be said but: these works are purely fictional. Please don't take any of it seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Nothing Has Changed
> 
> -ANGST-
> 
> //very slightly NSFW

Jack knew it was a bad idea to get drunk. A worse idea when taking into account the fact that his ex was by his side getting just as drunk. He only wished that he could be the kind of drunk who couldn’t remember a damn thing…

Not that forgetting would have helped in this situation, though it could have made waking up next to Mark a little less painful. Perhaps it could have prevented the ache blooming in his chest as he stared at Mark’s profile in the pale light of dawn. He always seemed to glow in natural light. Jack swallowed thickly and forced his gaze towards the window, trying desperately not to think about how much he missed the man beside him.

Mark shifted, the motion pulling Jack’s eyes back to him. He blinked awake, scrubbing a hand along his jaw sleepily. Jack could see in his eyes, the moment of recognition, the dread in the way his whole body went rigid. Jack’s heart seized up in his chest, sinking as Mark’s face fell further into a frown. He hadn’t even said anything, and already it felt like rejection. 

His groan was a harsh punctuation; an exclamation point stabbed straight through Jack’s heart. “I’m guessing you remember everything.” Mark muttered. His voice was raw, a low and tattered rumble. 

Moments flashed before Jack’s eyes -rough hands on hot skin, fingers tangling into dark hair, the taste of salt on sweat-slick skin, harsh and angry movements- and all he could do was nod, knocked down by the unwanted images. He wished he could forget it all. 

“What happened doesn’t change anything,” Mark said, his words stilted and quiet. “We’re still broken up.”

“Of course,” was Jack’s weak reply. He meant to hide his hurt more, but it had seeped into his voice, unwarranted and unstoppable. Mark imposed upon him an unreadable stare, eyes narrowed in some horrible mixture of pity and annoyance. He thought there was a hint of something else, longing perhaps, but surely that was all in his head. He turned to lay on his back, staring blankly at the ceiling. “I wouldn’t expect anythin’ else..”

“Good. Then we’re on the same page.” There was something lingering behind his words, but Jack decided he didn’t want to know what it was. It would only make everything hurt more. He would be better off not knowing.

Neither of them moved or spoke. Silence hung over their heads like a layer of thick, suffocating fog. Jack felt as if he was drowning, clinging to the sheets over his naked torso like a lifeline. He wondered if he should leave, just to get it over with. But that meant leaving behind the security of being hidden under the covers and facing reality. Harsh, frigid reality.

“You know… It’s hard to forget you when you’re laying so close.” Mark said with a lilt to his voice, as if it were merely a joke. The words were still heavy, and they made Jack’s stomach squirm and turn with discourse. It felt like a jab at him, for the way his limbs yearned to bring him closer despite everything left hanging between them.

“But do ya’ really want to forget me?” Jack retorted. He meant for the question to come out more playful and less spiteful, but it seemed he had no control over his emotions anymore. He could feel himself glaring daggers at Mark, but he didn’t have it in himself to care if it was hurtful, even when Mark turned to fix him with the most puppy-like stare.

“I don’t know.”

Jack hadn’t realized it until then, but that was the last thing he wanted to hear. A “yes” would have stung, surely, and a “no” would have made his heart soar. But the uncertainty, the raw emotion behind Mark’s gaze, and those dreadful three words left him feeling cruelly empty. To be fair, he didn’t know, either. That didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Would you hate me if I said I miss you?” Mark asked. He sounded as broken as Jack felt. It gave him some sick semblance of hope, that maybe they could try again, maybe they both wanted to. He hated taking comfort in Mark’s unhappiness. He felt disgusting.

“I could never hate you, Mark…” He sighed, heart pounding away heavily. “But if you miss me, why is this-“ Jack gestured vaguely between them, fingers trembling minutely “-what ever it is now…?”

“I thought we would both be better off,” Mark answers, his voice but a crackling whisper. “I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Was it?”

“I don’t know, Sean.” Mark’s tone turned harsh, so suddenly that Jack physically recoiled, stung by the cold use of his given name. “I don’t seem to know anything anymore, except that we… that this can’t work.”

“Right, of course,” Jack huffed, irritated. He gave in, finally, tossing the sheets down past his ankles as he sat up, uncaring of the cold chill of autumn pricking at his bare skin. He searched for and gathered his clothes from the floor, silently cursing himself for being so… so stupid. He rushed to pull his clothes back on, muttering all the while, “this was a mistake. All of it. I’ll leave.”

“Jack, please… Wait-” Mark’s voice cut through, softer now. Jack cringed, turning around to face him but not daring to look up from the floor. “I… I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Jack knew he was being cold, but he didn’t care anymore. He just wanted to leave. Bitter and hurt, he spat Mark’s words back at him, “what happened doesn’t change anything.”

He glanced up, meeting Mark’s eyes one last time before making his escape. He looked completely crushed. Good. Now we’re on the same page, Jack thought to himself as he turned on his heel. Mark didn’t fight it this time. The moment Jack made it past the front door he felt his heart crumble. He wanted Mark to fight for him. He should have known better.


	2. No One Needs to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: highschool au, Mark tries to hide from bullies and runs into Jack breaking the rules, and things get interesting. 
> 
> (warnings for some homophobia and drug use… sorry)

“Hey, gaylord.”

Mark sighs and tries to ignore the taunt. He shuts his locker and turns to head to class, but a bulky boy is in his way, arms crossed over his broad chest. The boy’s friends stand on either side of him, looming over Mark with smirks on their faces.

“Where do you think you’re going?” The boy in the middle asks, cocking his head to one side.

“Physics class.” Mark answers, side stepping in an attempt to get around them. The guy to his left moves to block him, shoving him against the lockers.

“You sure about that?” The guy to his right, Luke, sneers at him, glancing to his friends as if looking for approval. “We heard somethin’ much different.”

Mark sighs, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. He knows where this is going. “What did you hear?”

“We heard you were going to the janitor’s closet to give the other fags blowjobs.” Luke chuckles loudly, his friends joining in soon after.

“Is that true?” One of them asks, a wicked grin on his face. Mark isn’t sure if he’s asking out of curiosity or cruel intent. Doesn’t matter either way, douchebags like him are definitely not Mark’s type. Not that he has a type…

“Not even in your wet-dreams would that be true,” Mark mutters, glaring up at the guy over the rim of his glasses. “Now if you’ll excuse me-“

“No.” Luke growls, pushing Mark’s shoulder and pinning him against the lockers. “We don’t excuse fags like you.”

Mark grinds his teeth, patience wearing thin. Why did there have to be so many homophobes in this school? “Lucky for me, I’m not one.”

“We don’t believe you,” one of the other boys says. Mark notices the guy’s hands clench into fists and his heart sinks. Of course their intention is violence. This isn’t a new occurrence, but it never gets easier to prepare for. “One thing we hate more than faggots is liars.”

“Well, I’m not lying, so…” Mark moved to pull himself away from Luke’s hand that has him pinned against his locker. “I’m gonna’ leave now.”

“You’re not going anywhere, dickwad!” One of the boys shouts, reaching to grab Mark by the shirt collar. Mark drops his books and ducks to evade the boy’s grasp. He takes off running, sprinting around the corner. He needs to lose them somehow. He considers the janitor’s closet, but the janitor is blocking his way. Mark takes a sharp turn and hurls the bathroom door open.

He cringes when the door slams against the wall with a loud bang that echoes off the tiled walls. He sighs in relief when he realizes he managed to get the only gender-neutral bathroom in the school, lock included. He clicks the lock and leans his forehead against the door in relief. A moment later he hears a small choking cough and turns slowly to find that he isn’t alone.

A lithe boy sits with his feet up on the toilette seat, one hand over his mouth and the other stilled at his side. He holds a lit joint between his fingers. He stares at Mark, trembling slightly as he struggles not to cough. His black-lined eyes appear red and glassy, the bright blue of his eyes standing out. Mark only stares back at him, heart caught in his throat. The tense moment breaks as the boy breaks into a coughing fit.

Mark approaches him, one hand out in a gesture meant to be comforting. As the boy lets out his last few wretched coughs, Mark places his open palm against his shoulder.

“Wha’ the fuck’re ya’ doin’ in here?” The boy asks, voice rough from coughing. He glares up at Mark with bleary eyes. He’s doesn’t look quite as intimidating as he likely means to be. Though, what ever accent that is sure makes up for it.

“Escaping some assholes…” Mark mutters, irritated. “You should have locked the door if you didn’t want to get caught.”

“I thought I did,” the boy grumbles, slumping dow to sit properly on the seat. “But whatever. S’long as you won’t tell on me I don’t give a fuck.”

“I won’t tell. No one needs to know.” Mark promises, holding out his hand in offer to shake on it. The boy gives him an odd look and moves to pass Mark his joint, one brow raised in question. It wasn’t what he meant, but the offer is somewhat tempting. He shakes his head, “I- I’ve never smoked before.”

“Oh? Y’ever shotgunned at least?”

Mark shakes his head, confused. His friend Danny had offered to “shotgun” him once but he didn’t know what it meant and the term made him nervous. The other boy narrows his eyes, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“You want to?” He asks, glancing to the joint between his fingers. Mark shrugs, heart pounding. He’s not sure what to expect, and he’s certain it isn’t a good idea either way. But something about this boy and this situation make him want to say yes.

“I’m not sure how it works.” Mark finds himself saying, and he nearly slaps his hand over his mouth to shut himself up. He shouldn’t be inquiring about something like this. He should be in class. But this boy before him is chuckling to himself and he has the most blindingly genuine smile Mark has ever seen.

“I’ll show ya’, if you want? Probably won’t get ya’ quite as high as smokin’ it yer’self…” He trails off, then lets out a quiet squeak. “I’m Jack, by the way.”

“Ah, nice to meet you, Jack…” Mark cringes when he catches his voice tremble. Stupid nerves. “I’m Mark.”

“Cool.” Jack says, smiling dopily. Without another word, he takes a pull from his joint, eyes closed and inhaling deeply. He reaches out with his free hand to grab Mark’s shirt and pull him down so that they’re face to face. Mark stares at Jack with restless eyes, trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. But then Jack is staring back at him, his piercing blue eyes commanding attention. Mark feels almost at ease with the situation. He feels like he can trust Jack, for some reason he can’t comprehend.

Jack releases his grip on Mark’s shirt and brings his hand to his mouth instead, urging Mark to open up. He does as instructed, heart thundering away in his chest as Jack starts moving closer. Their noses bump and Jack tilts his head a little, then taps Mark’s chest. He’s not entirely sure what it means, but he’s got an idea of what to do. Jack exhales, letting the smoke flow from his lips, and Mark hesitates for a moment before he breathes it in. His head is swimming already, but he knows it’s not the weed. He inhales until he can’t anymore, and starts to let it go. Jack hums his disapproval and presses their mouths together to stop him.

Mark blinks his eyes open in surprise, breath catching in his throat and lungs. He is hyper-aware of Jack’s fingertips where they rest on his cheek, of soft lips against his own. He stands still, stunned, lungs beginning to burn from holding the smoke in. Jack slowly pulls away, and Mark exhales into the space between them.

“So um…” Jack pauses, chewing his bottom lip in thought. “That’s not how it always goes, by the way.”

“I didn’t think so.” Mark agrees quietly, surprised that he wasn’t coughing up a lung or two.

“I mean the kiss part,” Jack clarifies, cheeks flushing. “I mean, it happens, jus’ not always.”

“Why did you..?”

“I wanted to.” Jack shrugs, snubbing out his joint and pocketing what’s left. Mark raises a brow at that but doesn’t say anything. “Yer’ a really good lookin’ guy.”

“I… um, thanks?” Mark stammers, pulling his fingers through his hair. Jack only smiles at him, a ridiculous little lopsided smile, eyes twinkling.

“Thank fuck yer not mad at me.” Jack laughs and shakes his head, “I was a little worried ya’ might punch me.”

“N-no, I wouldn’t.” Mark presses his lips firmly shut, stopping himself from saying what’s on the tip of his tongue. But the longer he stares at Jack, gaze drawn towards his mouth, the more he wants to say it. Then Jack licks his lips and Mark’s breath hitches. He has to say it. “I liked it,” he whispers, half hoping Jack won’t hear him. “I liked it a lot.”

Jack’s smile twitches, slowly turning into a smirk. He flutters his lashes and tips his head to one side. “Oh did ya’ now?”

Mark bites the inside of his bottom lip, nodding. He shouldn’t have said that. But somehow, as ridiculous it seemed, he thought maybe saying it would open the door for a second kiss. He isn’t even sure why he wants it. But oh, god does he want it. He wants to try again, properly this time.

“C’mere,” Jack croons, crooking a finger to beckon Mark closer. He leans in, leaving mere inches between their faces. “I shoulda’ asked permission last time…” Jack whispers, looking a little disappointed in himself. “Can I kiss ya’ again, Mark?”


	3. I Need You...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mostly Angst + Darkiplier
> 
> Jack and Mark are left to figure out the aftermath of Dark coming out to play...
> 
> Warning: blood and self-hate

Mark stared down at his hands in disgust. There was blood under his nails, stuck in each line in his palm, soaked through. He could scrub it away… he should. He felt too heavy to stand, weighted by the reality of what he had done.

He had never killed anyone before. Oddly, it wasn’t the blood or the body that bothered him. No, it was the rush of blood in his veins, the euphoria, the adrenalin so intense his hands were shaking. Or maybe they shook of fear, anxiety, dread. He didn’t want to like this. He shouldn’t like it.

His trembling fingers took hold of the phone in his pocket, and with little thought he picked out a contact and called. He slowly raised the phone to his ear, staring dazedly at the unmoving figure laying before him, the dial tone monotonous and hypnotizing. He waited, breathing slowly though his nose, confused by how calm he felt. This couldn’t be normal.

“Mark?” Came a sleep-rough voice. He sighed at the sound of his friend’s sleepy reply.

“Hey, Jack…” He said. His voice trembled, escaping his lips raw and tense. He exhaled sharply, realizing how not-calm he really was. “I um… I…”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Jack asked, clearly panicked. Mark could hear the ruffling of blankets and sheets as Jack sat up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you-“

“That doesn’t matter, Mark. Are you okay or not?”

Mark couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pool of blood slowly soaking through the knees of his jeans. How would he get rid of the stains? What would he do about the body? What would he do about himself? Jack called out his name, pulling him back to the conversation. “Honestly… No. I don’t think I am okay.”

“What happened?” Jack sounded wary, now, and Mark worried that he knew. His heart was beating too fast, but he felt far away, almost as if he was hovering a few feet above himself. This couldn’t be his doing… Come to think of it, he didn’t remember doing it. One moment he was in bed, the next here, kneeling in blood. But the pleasure, the rush, he remembered feeling those. That wasn’t something that you could fake.

“I… I just really need to have you here right now… I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Okay, just… Gimme ten minutes, a’right?” Jack slurred sleepily. “Do ya’ need me to stay on with you?”

Mark frowned, tempted to say yes. The sound of Jack’s voice kept him grounded, but he didn’t want to put his friend at risk making him drive and talk on the phone. “Just focus on driving,” he muttered. He could hear the lack of emotion in his own voice, sending chills up his spine. “I’ll be okay.”

It felt like only a matter of seconds before there was knock at the door. Mark’s heart sank below his feet as he stood on unstable legs, slowly making his way to the door. He took a deep breath, prepared to turn himself over to what ever uniformed authority happened to be on the other side of that door. He gripped the knob with sticky fingers, cringing at the pull of drying blood at his skin, and slowly pulled the door open to face the person on the other side. He didn’t expect to see Jack standing there, staring at him with wide blue eyes and a worried frown.

“A-are you bleeding?” He asked, reaching out with one hand, halting half way as he noticed the scene behind Mark. “What the fuck…” He breathed the words, shocked to silence. His gaze flickered from Mark to the bloody mess inside, and he took a step back. Mark slumped against the door. He should have expected a reaction like this.

“I don’t know what happened, honestly.”

“Yer’ tellin’ me you’ve got some kinda’… murder amnesia?” Jack asked, voice raised, brows drawn together. Mark shrugged, subdued in his movements. He wondered if this was what it was like to disassociate. He had only read about it before. It felt different than he expected.

“I don’t feel right… I feel like a shadow of myself,” Mark sighed, pulling stained fingers through his hair. He met Jack’s eyes, heart breaking to see the fear that he held within. “I’m fucking scared, Jack.”

“I… I don’t…” He stammered, closing a hand over his own mouth. He dragged his fingers across his face, letting out a shaky breath. “I dunno’ how t’ feel about this.”

“I’m sorry,” Mark whispered, hanging his head. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come here… You should probably just call the cops and leave.”

Their eyes met, though Mark felt like he was staring through a layer of frosted glass. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, pulling it away wet, the blood on his skin smeared and diluted by tears. Jack just stared at him for a long moment, stock still and rigid, lips pursed. Suddenly he stepped forward, brushing past Mark to get inside. He didn’t say a word, only tentatively approached the crime scene laid out before him. Mark closed the door and turned to watch Jack in confusion.

“I don’t care if ya’ remember it or not, this is fucked up, Mark.” Jack turned to glance at him over his shoulder, arms crossed in front of his chest, fingers digging into the flesh of his own biceps. He looked terrified, and Mark ached to see him that way. He never meant for this to happen. “We’ve gotta’ fix this. How do we fix this?”

“We?” Mark asked, breathless. “You want to help me?”

“I know you’re a good person… Mostly.” Jack sighed, shaking his head. Something felt very off about the way he smiled at Mark. It was tight-lipped and forced, terrifying in a way he couldn’t explain. It made him nervous. “I figure you should get a second chance.”

“Why should I if that man didn’t?” Mark growls. He hates himself for doing this, what ever he did. He wishes he could remember, if only to know for sure it was him. He wasn’t mad at Jack, but the other man flinched regardless. “Call the cops on me or I’ll do it myself!”

“It doesn’t have to be like that…” Jack shifted on his feet, glancing at the body briefly. He sounded hysterical, so shaken that something must’ve been knocked loose in his brain. “We can make it go away. Like it never even happened.”

“Jack, stop. You’re not thinking straight.”

“I am! I know what I’m saying!” Jack pushed his fingers through short, greying hairs, eyes wide and frantic. “This doesn’t have ta’ end with you in a prison cell. Or worse, a fuckin’ electric chair.”

“It’s what I deserve, after-“

“No. Don’t fuckin’ finish that sentence, Fischbach.” Jack pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, groaning in frustration. “I can’t believe… there’s no way this is you,” he gestures towards the man on the floor, waving his hand vaguely. “There’s no way.”

“What if it is?” Mark snapped back, setting his jaw, lips pressed firmly together. Jack stared at him for a long, unnerving moment.

“If that was you, I’m willin’ to bet I wouldn’t be alive right now.” Jack turned to face the mess on the floor, at the blood still creeping across the dark wood. “We should clean this up ‘fore it gets too deep in the cracks… And you,” Jack breathed in slowly, shaking slightly on the exhale, “you should clean yourself up.”

Mark nodded, though Jack couldn’t see him, and made his way to the bathroom at a snail’s pace. His feet were heavy, his limbs weak. How could Jack just accept this? Looking at himself in the mirror, Mark felt sick, disturbed by the hollow look in his own eyes. There was blood on seemingly every inch of skin he could see, splattered across his face and soaked into his hands. He got lost in the dark freckles, his mind but a haze of dulled emotions. Fear, confusion, anger. It felt like everything was a second hand emotion, passed down to him through a strainer, removed of the true impact. He felt numb more than anything.

Mark scrubbed at his flesh, unrelenting and vigorous. At some point he realized some of the blood washing down the drain was his own, bubbling up from scratches and rubbed-raw patches on his hands, but the pain didn’t quite register. All he could feel anymore was a vague sense of terror, with no designated source or outlet, just a quiet and endless scream in the back of his mind. He was more gentle removing the blood from his face and neck, opting to use a hand-towel instead. Once all the rusty flecks had been scrubbed away he dabbed his face dry, hesitantly meeting his own eye in the mirror.

With a blink, his eyes flickered pure black. Deep, endless abysses of darkness stared back at him. Horrified, he yelped and stumbled backwards. He blinked and saw the brown irises he had grown used to there, pupils blown wide. Jack was in the doorway within seconds, worry written across his face in glaring neon lights.

“What happened?”

“I… Something is very wrong with me…” Mark stared at Jack, if only to keep himself from looking back in the mirror to check his appearance. “I think I’m seeing things.”

“What kind’a things?” Jack asked, taking a step closer, hand landing on Mark’s shoulder. The touch was stabilizing, somehow.

“My eyes.” Mark answered, knowing he was being vague but unsure how to put what he saw into words. Jack raised one brow at him, studying Mark’s face restlessly.

“They look normal t’ me..?”

“They weren’t.” Mark sighed, screwing his eyes shut. He didn’t know if he could make it happen again, or if he even wanted to. His anger resurfaced, a boiling heat in the pit of his stomach, a voice telling him he deserved nothing more than death for all the shit he’s done. He growled involuntarily, grinding his teeth as he forced himself to look Jack in the eyes. He was so pure, so fucking selfless, and Mark knew he didn’t deserve the kindness Jack had shown him.

Jack jerked away, slapping a hand over his mouth in surprise. He stared, chest rising and falling rapidly. Mark hated that he induced fear in the other man. He hissed a string of curse-words under his breath, hiding his eyes, pressing his palms hard against them.

“I’m guessin’ that’s what you meant…” Jack whispered, clearly in awe of what he’d seen. Mark nodded, tempted to claw out his own eyes out of frustration and self hatred.

“I’m a monster. There’s no… other explanation.” Mark huffed angrily, tugging at his own hair. “I can’t feel. I’m broken.”

“Somethin’s not right, that’s for sure… but you’re not a monster, Mark.”

“Like hell!” Mark cried, throwing his fist into the wall with a sickening crack.

“Okay,” Jack said, voice softened now. He reached out to Mark with both hands, timid and careful. “You haven’t always been like this, so… it’s probably something that can be… fixed?”

“You can’t fix everything,” Mark muttered, head hanging low. He was growing tired of the mood swings. “I don’t even know when this started. It could’ve been building up for years for all I know. Maybe this really is me.”

Jack didn’t reply, only stared at him, unwavering and standing tall. One of them had to be stable. He offered Mark a hand, which he tentatively took hold of with his own. Jack wordlessly led him to the bedroom, urging him to lay down. He manhandled Mark when he refused to cooperate, and left him wrapped up in blankets.

“Try to sleep, okay? You’ll be better off…” Jack muttered as he flicked the light off and left the room. Mark tried to humor him in his request, but no matter how tightly he hugged the pillow in his arms, or how relaxed he tried to be, he couldn’t fall asleep. His chest ached too much with guilt and disgust, his mind too full of sound. He could hear Jack scrubbing at the floor in the other room, the rhythmic scraping of bristles on hardwood. After a while the sound became more soothing than it was a reminder of the disaster he had caused. Slowly, he began to feel a little more at ease, enough that he could close his eyes and not see red. He still had not managed to sleep, however, by the time Jack came back to check on him.

“Sean…?” Mark inquired, knowing the other man was standing in the doorway silently. He heard a soft intake of breath and the quiet sound of Jack shifting his weight.

“Yeah?”

“I can’t sleep.” Mark sighed, curling a little closer to his pillow.

“What do you need?”

Mark’s first thought was a simple, one word answer which left him feeling like he’d been sucker punched by his own mind. You. He couldn’t ask any more of Jack, though. Not after everything.

“D’you need… somethin’ to hold?” Jack asked, a little hesitant. Mark turned to look at his friend. Or, really, the silhouette of the man, a halo cast around his edges from the hallway light, framed by the doorway. He looked like an angel, a savior, and Mark knew it was more than he deserved. More than he could ever ask for or accept. But he was selfish.

“Yes,” he said, swallowing hard. “If you don’t mind.”

Jack shrugged, as if it was normal to accept a request to cuddle with an apparent murderer, and made his way to the bed. He crawled up beside Mark, pulling apart the mess of blankets and pillows to get at him. He laid beside Mark, his movements harsh and jerky. He buried himself in the blankets, curling up close, and roughly shoved his hands under Mark’s arms, wrapping his arms around him tightly. Mark was careful to be gentle as he attempted to return the embrace, heart beating fast in his chest.

“Why are you still here?” Mark asked. His heart ached, and he was caught between being thankful that he could feel again, and bitter that it was the first thing he felt.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I care about you.” Jack curled his fists in the fabric of Mark’s shirt, pressed his face against the man’s arm and sighed. “Maybe I’m an idiot, but… Somehow, this doesn’t change how I feel.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Mark huffed petulantly, but on instinct tucked his chin over Jack’s head. It felt nice to be held, and to hold. Especially now, though he was certain it was the last thing he deserved.

“I’m not sorry fer’ lovin’ you…” Jack slurred, the words coming out like molasses; slow and painfully sweet. Mark felt his heart kickstart, a rush of blood pumping through his limbs, his fingers tingling. It took him a moment to really comprehend that Jack wasn’t joking or drunk.

“You love me?”

“Yes,” Jack sighed, long suffering and tired. He nuzzled closer, burying his face into Mark’s chest. “I love ya’, idiot. Now go to sleep before I lose my mind, too.”

Mark felt himself smile, his insides twisting up uncomfortably. He was struck by the statement, awed and terrified at once. He didn’t know how to respond. Part of him wanted to pull away and tell Jack he wasn’t worth that, to tell him he’s bad news. Another part, overwhelmingly large, wanted to kiss the irishman, to cling to him and never let him go. He could barely comprehend the fact that Jack could overlook this massive flaw, that he could still confidently say he loved Mark.

Maybe Jack wasn’t as sane as he seemed, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of this in chapter 5, or you can read it like it probably sHOULD be over here https://www.wattpad.com/275814368-dark-rising-i-need-you/page/3


	4. Okay Google...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> | Googleplier x Jack | SMUT | just straight up sin |

 

Jack wakes up to a rough tap on his forehead and groans, flinging his arm up to block his face.

"Jack." Google says, poking at his chest instead. "You seem to have a slight dilemma."

"What?" Jack asks, groggy and confused. He peers under his forearm, meeting Google's softly glowing eyes in the dark room. A glance over at the clock reveals that Google decided to wake him up at 4:35, of all times. "Can't it wait?"

"I suppose it could," Google says with a stiff shrug. Suddenly his fingers are grazing along Jack's crotch, caressing an erection he hadn't noticed. Jack gasps and flings his hand down to catch Google's wrist, eyes wide and face quickly flushing a deep red. Google continues his sentence, deadpan and quiet, "but I know you don't prefer... _unfinished business._ "

"H-how do you know that? I've never told you..." Jack whispers, mind reeling slightly. He's still half asleep, and now a little paranoid too. He is used to Google waking him up in the middle of the night with some nonsense, but this is new.

"I have been observing you, of course." Google tilts his head slightly, blinking at Jack. "You were grinding against the mattress again. I thought you might like some assistance."

"But you're not ma-" Jack gasps, cut off by Google's wandering fingers. He had trailed fingertips gently down to press against Jack's hole through thin boxers. "W-what the fuck!"

"I have direct access to your search history, I know what you like."

Jack stares at Google, chest rising and falling rapidly. He's not sure what to say. He knows that Google can't do much without permission, which is comforting in a way. But something about the situation is intriguing, and he's tempted to outright _order_ Google to stop teasing and just get on with it. His heart is pounding away as he thinks it over, tries to decide what's the right thing to do here.

"Can you even... do you feel pleasure?" Jack asks awkwardly, trying as hard as he can to keep from rolling his hips and pushing down into Google's touch.

"No, I cannot. But that is irrelevant. I exist to... please you. I cannot proceed without your permission, Jack." Google twitches a little, face contorting for a split second. Jack's eyes narrow and he chews his lip. "But if you give me admin permissions..." Google grins, teeth glinting slightly in the dim light.

"I don't know," Jack says, frowning slightly when Google pulls away. "It's a little... um..."

"Weird?" Google asks, nodding. "I suppose. But I've seen your search history." A dim, blue tinted holograph window pops up in front of his face, a list of search terms appearing. They scroll through until stopping and highlighting one search, and Google reads aloud, " _google sex drive_... interesting."

Jack blushes harshly, turning his face away.

Google smiles, chuckling slightly. "You installed it last night." he says, moving his hand up to Jack's thigh.

"I did?" Jack tenses a bit when Google nods, wracking his brain to try to remember. "In my sleep?"

Google nods again, sliding his hand up Jack's thigh slowly. "But I still need permission, of course."

"O-okay.. um..." Jack swallows thickly, gaze flicking between Google's wandering hand and his carefully blank face. He has heard that giving admin permissions can be dangerous, and so refrains from doing so. But it's admittedly an appealing idea. "Google, please um.. help me out here?"

"You'll need to be more specific," Google says, patient as he trails his fingers higher. A small chuckle escapes him, "or you could-"

"No." Jack interrupts, pursing his lips. "Just... Could you... fuck me?" He looks up at Google through his lashes and he can feel his face burning but he doesn't back down. "Do you even have the-"

Google stops him, grabbing Jack's hand and guiding it to his own crotch. Jack gasps, surprised. He knew that this model was supposed to be as life-like as possible but he didn't expect... that. And before Jack can come up with some snarky comment about how well endowed Google is, he's being pulled up by his hips, his boxers tearing as Google pulls at them and tosses them to the floor. Jack gasps and squirms a little in Google's grip, feeling exposed and embarrassed. Google crawls up onto the bed and sits, pulling Jack into his lap, and Jack panics for a moment.

"Wait!" He gasps, lifting himself up when he feels Google's cock at his hole. Google goes still, his hands resting on Jack's hips. "You can't just do it. It'll hurt... I need um.. you need to prep me first."

Google seems a little irked by that, but gently pushes Jack back to lay down. Jack yelps at the feeling of a slick finger prodding into him, not ever seeing Google get any lube, but he decides it might be better not to question it. Google works him open, wasting no time with teasing, and by the time he's fully prepped Jack is a writhing mess, grasping at the sheets and muttering curses and nonsense. He bucks his hips up and whines for Google to fuck him, only earning a soft tsk in response. The more he begs, the darker Google's expression turns, until suddenly Jack feels an intense vibration against his prostate and is left breathless, a scream caught in the back of his throat. He wiggles his hips, unsure if he's trying to get away from the feeling or get more of it.

"W-what.. how are you d-doing that?" Jack whines, eyes shut tight and face half buried in his pillow.

"I'm a robot," Google answers simply, turning the vibration down to a low hum. Jack tries to catch his breath in that moment, adjusting his legs to get more comfortable. "There's little I _can't_ do."

Jack swallows thickly, mind reeling at that statement. The persistent electric hum of Google's fingers has him curling his fingers tightly in the sheets, heat pooling in his belly, hardly able to speak. "Mm- I'm close—"

The moment the words are out of Jack's mouth, those perfect fingers leave him. A long, low whine escapes him, his hips bucking up in a vain search for friction. He's about to ask why Google stopped when he feels hands pulling roughly at his hips, dragging him down the bed. His heart is pounding away with some horrible mixture of anxiousness and need, and he finds himself blindly hooking his legs around Google's waist to pull him closer, a surprisingly cold but fleshy cock head pressing at his entrance. He can't believe this is happening, it must be some weird dream..

"Such a needy little _slut_..." Google murmurs, leaning over Jack, eyes glowing faintly in the dark room. Jack is caught between asking why he'd ever say something like that, and just pushing his hips down to bury Goggle's dick in himself, but ends up just moaning and throwing an arm over his face to hide the red of his cheeks. "Look at me." Google orders, pushing Jack's arm away roughly. Jack's heart seizes up, feeling conflicted by the action. He's supposed to be the one in control here... but something about Google taking over control makes him ache. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and hesitantly meets Goggle's eyes, face burning. Jack hesitates for a split second before shifting his hips to press closer to Google, taking in a little more of his length.

Google's eyes narrow slightly as he eases his cock further into Jack's ass, watching him with intent and a faint heat in his eyes. Jack lets a string of curses flow from his lips and hooks his ankles behind Google's back, tugging him in closer, abandoning all thoughts of taking it slow in favor of begging Google to just

_"move please holy shit."_

A bold smirk appears on Google's face as he cocks his hips and the head of his dick presses directly against Jack's sweet spot. He gasps in surprise, wondering how the fuck he knew _exactly_ where it was.

"fuckin' robots..." Jack murmurs, breathless and overwhelmed. Google growls, a deep and crackly sound, and grabs Jack's wrists, pinning them up above his head. Jack rolls his hips, whining. "Oh fuck— come on, Google."

"What do you want?" Google asks, almost sounding innocent. "You seemed to really enjoy vibration... Perhaps-"

"Please," Jack gasps without thought, curling and uncurling his fingers, desperate to touch. "Can you do that?"

Google scoffs lightly, and before Jack can even process the faint clicking sound that comes from somewhere within Google's abdomen he's being assaulted by an intense vibration. It's so overwhelming, so sudden, it leaves him arching his back off the bed, screaming out hoarsely as Google starts thrusting shallow and slow, just rubbing the head of his vibrating cock against Jack's prostate unrelentingly. Jack goes rigid, his orgasm crashing into him faster than he can even process, leaving him choking on a moan, eyes rolling back in his head as he covers his own stomach and chest in white hot ribbons of cum. He's left panting and feeling sleep pulling at him, the edges of his vision gone dark. The last thing he's able to process is the sound of Google laughing softly as he spreads Jack's cum across his stomach with two fingers.


	5. What Took You So Long (pt.2 of chapter 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of the story in Chapter 3!
> 
>  
> 
> Darkiplier | angst | dark themes | slightly nsfw

Jack tucked his hands into the sleeves of Mark’s sweater, fabric bunching up under his arms as he folded them over his chest and stared blankly at the lake before him. His mind was too far away to focus even on the gentle waves glimmering in the moonlight. The moon was full that night, a harvest moon, the bloody red sphere making everything appear dark and eery. 

“Give me a hand.” Dark commanded, pulling Jack’s attention to him. He was hunched over, a block of cement held half off the ground, black eyes boring into Jack with impatience and anger.

Jack narrowed his eyes, jaw tightening as he stared right back. “Don’t you have fuckin’ inhuman strength? What the fuck do you need me for?” He asks, voice cutting and low. Dark stared at him, anger radiating from him, sending a chill down Jack’s spine.

“I need you to help me because if you don’t, I won’t hesitate to deal with _you_ , too.” Dark says, sounding calm and collected despite the rage clearly building on the inside. Jack wonders why he’s so fucking angry anyway. “You know too much. The only reason you’re not dead yet is because Mark would be furious if I did anything to you without provocation.”

Jack snorted as he remembered how he met Dark. He’d nearly slit Jack’s throat on the spot, had him pressed up against the wall, pitch black eyes practically burning holes his head, faintly glowing with an eery red light, knife in hand. Jack thought he was going to die then and there, but Dark growled and shoved him harshly before letting go, tossing the knife at the door where it stuck with a soft thud. And all because he had called him Mark, not knowing that anything had even changed until he was being thrown across the room.

With a sigh, Jack shuffled over and grabbed the other end of the cement block, helping Dark to toss it into the lake. Water splashed up onto the pier, splattering on their legs, and Dark looked to Jack as if he had caused the splash on purpose. Jack rolled his eyes, shoving past him to grab one of the other blocks from the back of the car. There were three in total, each containing a third of the body Jack had been called over about in the first place.

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened?” Jack asked, grunting lightly as he hefted the block up out of the car. Dark grabbed the other end and helped him carry it to the other end of the pier to drop it in. “I mean, I think I deserve to know since I cleaned up your mess for you.”

Dark groaned, shaking his head. Jack tensed, worried that Dark might shove him into the water, but he only turned back to get the last block. “Thanks for that, but I didn’t need your help.”

“Mark did.” Jack stated plainly, helping Dark lift the final block and toss it in along with the others. He really hoped that plan would work for hiding the body. Dark had apparently done research to find a pier with minimal security, and then cut the security cameras off as well just to be safe. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they were caught. He wasn’t prepared for that. And Mark wouldn’t be either, but he would undoubtedly have to suffer the consequences of Dark’s actions, which would likely mean being thrown into an institution and treated for some mental illness that he may or may not even have. Jack wasn’t sure at this point.

“Just because _he’s_ weak doesn’t mean you’ve earned anything from me. That doesn’t even make sense, you fuck.” Dark grunted and shoved Jack into the car, causing him to bump his head on the arch of the door. Jack was slightly startled by the shift in how Dark spoke to him. He seemed to speak with a strange amount of formality most of the time, no matter how angry he was. That last sentence really stuck out to Jack, threw him for a loop. Did it mean Dark was even more angry than usual, or that he was calming down?

 

———————

 

The moment they made it back to Mark’s house, Dark shoved Jack inside and pushed him against the wall, forearm pressed against his collarbones just hard enough to keep him from struggling too much. His gaze was piercing, a bit brighter than before.

“I want to make this very clear, _kiddo_ , so listen the fuck up.” Dark shoved Jack further into the wall, making him hiss in pain. “If you so much as drop a single hint to anyone about what happened here, I will not hesitate to gut you. You may be cute and innocent but that won’t stop me from enjoying every second of it. Understood?”

Jack flushed slightly, nodding in ascent. Dark stared him down for a tense moment before letting go and stepping away. 

Something in Jack shifted a bit, like something was struck loose when Dark shoved him, and there were thoughts pouring into his brain that he couldn’t control. Thoughts that he knew he shouldn’t be thinking. In his effort to tamp the thoughts down, one escaped, a taunting lilt to his tone that he couldn’t control; “You think I’m cute, huh?”

Dark tensed, turning slowly to face Jack again. He raised a brow, jaw clenched tight. “ _That’s_ what you gleaned from that?”

“Wasn’t all I got.” Jack said, snapping his mouth shut immediately after. He didn’t want to be saying these things. He was actively trying _not_ to say them. Yet they just kept popping out against his will. “I also realized you’re incredibly hot when you’re angry.”

Dark huffed a humorless little laugh, eyes narrowing to shadowy slits. “Oh I’m flattered… But if you expect anything to happen between us you better stop messing around, Sunny.”

Jack raised a brow, confusion seeping in behind the rest of his thoughts. He suddenly felt very powerless, like all of his will and choice had been drained from him. His head tilted to the side against his will, neck cracking, a soft moan escaping his mouth. His vision began to darken slightly, going fuzzy around the edges. He tried to scream, to ask what Dark was doing to him, but he couldn’t make a sound. He couldn’t even control his own limbs, not even twitch a single finger. He would probably be hyperventilating if he could even control that much, but he was stuck, feeling like he was trapped in his own mind.

“Ah, there you are,” Dark said, a predatory grin creeping across his face. “What took you so long?”

 

—————————-

 

Dark watched as the lithe form before him stretched, arms raising above that head of green hair, a sigh and a giggle pouring from opened mouth. He was wondering when Anti would show up. This whole thing was for him, after all.

“Long time no see, babe.” Anti said, grinning as he approached Dark, wrapping an arm around the demon’s broad shoulder and neck to bring them closer. “I see you started the fun without me.”

“You were taking too long,” Dark muttered, nose twitching with a small pang of anger. “You know I have no patience, yet you kept me waiting anyway.”

“I like to see you suffer,” Anti said, smile never faltering. “You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”

Dark groaned, roughly bumping their foreheads together. “And you’re a pain in the ass.”

“But you love me anyway.” Anti stared into those blackened eyes, challenging Dark to disagree. Dark hated when he played these kinds of games, constantly searching for approval. But it was also that strong will and desire to please Dark that made him like Anti, even when he was annoying as hell. Something about him let him needle his way into the pit of Dark’s cold heart. He couldn’t feel much for many people, and he would be very hesitant to say he _loved_ Anti, but he certainly didn’t hate him either.

“What ever helps you sleep at night.” Dark said, voice low and teasing. He roughly fisted Anti’s hair, pulling so that his neck was bared to him. Dark had almost forgotten how soft and smooth he was, how appealing that blank canvas of flesh was. He growled quietly, trying to hold back at least until he knew Jack was fully gone. “You should have come out sooner, Sunny. You made the poor little guy suffer.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy bossing him around.” Anti chuckled, throat bobbing slightly. Dark licked his lips, quickly loosing willpower. He despised that Anti could so easily make him feel weak in the worst ways. “And anyway, he was a good boy. He even scrubbed the floor for you, and you didn’t even have to ask him to.”

“Yes, well… He’s weak for my host.” Dark simmered at the thought. Soon he would have to revert back to being nothing more than a little voice in the back of Mark’s head. There was nothing he hated more than being stuck in there, but he couldn’t exactly control it. He only had a few days after the full moon to run free.

Anti grabbed at Dark’s wrist, pushing so he could tilt his head back down and look Dark in the eyes. “That’s a good thing, ya moron. Mean’s we can do what ever we want and they’ll deal with it unconditionally. They love each other too much to let anything bad happen.”

“That’s no reason to run rampant,” Dark muttered, yanking Anti’s head back again and biting at his neck. His chest thrummed with excitement at the little yelp his nipping evoked. “We still need to show at least some restraint. Times have changed, a bloodbath isn’t as easy to get away with anymore.”

Anti moaned softly, shifting to press his thigh between Dark’s legs. “Mmm, what about just one? Please?”

Dark hummed against Anti’s throat, sucking a harsh mark into that pretty flesh. “Maybe if you’re good. But it has to be a one time thing, you know that.”

“Yes of course,” Anti said, breathless and giddy. He rolled his hips up, pushing his thigh firmly against Dark, pulling a soft moan from him. “I’ll do anything.”

“Damn right you will,” Dark growled, biting at Anti’s neck once more before pushing him away just enough to pick him up. Anti wrapped his legs around Dark’s waist, grinning like a fool. “Fuck you are _so_ infuriating.”  
“What are you gonna do about it?” Anti asked, biting his lip as he awaited the response they both knew was coming. Dark effortlessly carried Anti through the halls, tossing him onto Mark’s bed without care or caution. He hovered over Anti, eyes glimmering with desire and a predatory lust.

“You know exactly what I’m going to do, you little slut.” Dark growled, pushing his hands up under Anti’s shirt to grasp roughly at the flesh of his hips. He was going to have so much fun turning that pretty blank canvas of flesh under his hands bright red.


	6. Sparks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff | College AU???
> 
> ____________________
> 
> A/N: I wrote this forever ago and just found it in an old document full of ideas. I finally took a little time to finish it up as best I could. It's inspired by my own Fourth of July experience... but with a much nicer ending.

Jack has always been a bit of a loner. You wouldn't know it if you caught him talking with close friends; the way his voice would rise and the smile that seemed stuck on his face at times. But here, in a back yard with a group of people he hardly knows, his quiet side is at it's peak.

It's the fourth of July, a nice day with a decent breeze to keep him from feeling like he's trapped in an oven. Normally he would be at home or with family, but this year his room mate had managed to coerce him into coming here, then promptly ditched him to fool around with his girlfriend. It's been too long, now, to just get up and leave without seeming strange, and he'd have no way home either way. So he stays, a damn good burger in one hand and a hard cider in the other.

For the last hour he has been trying to learn everyone's names without asking directly. There's the host of the party, Dan. He's easy enough to remember since the guy next to him -whose name might be Arin but Jack's not sure yet- says his name pretty often. Then there's Suzy and Barry, who have been alternating between manning the stereo, flipping burgers, and chatting loudly with each other. Suzy will occasionally move to grab maybe-Arin's hand. There's also Kevin, a quiet boy, clearly a bit younger than everyone else, who has been tucked under Dan's arm half of the time. And of course there's Ross, whose name has mostly been followed by various insults meant to be friendly jabs. He has been tending the fire. Jack thinks to himself that it's not smart to make fun of the man with the fire poker.

Then there's the enchanting man who perched in a chair to Jack's left and remained there most of the night. He has been almost as quiet as Jack, only occasionally offering a joke or smart-ass remark to the conversations happening all around them. His name remains a mystery, and Jack wants to know. What he does know, however, is that this young man is stunning. Dark and probably really soft hair; deep, glimmering brown eyes that sometimes look like the amber glow of Dan's beer bottle in the sunlight; a smile so bright and blinding that it could easily outshine the sun; the voice of an angel, enchanting and soothing. Jack feels foolish for it, because really he doesn't know this man, but he finds himself enamored already.

As the sun is setting, just peeking through the tree line across the fence, Arin runs off, disappears into the house and returns a moment later with an armful of fireworks and sparklers. He's laughing about something clever he said -which Jack missed- as he tosses a little box of sparklers to each of the party-goers. Jack is excited despite how awkward and out of place he still feels.

"Wanna' trade?" The man beside Jack asks, leaning across the space between their chairs. Jack raises one brow, glancing from his own box to the other man's. They looks the same besides the color on the package. He shrugs and offers up his. "Thanks." the man says, grinning as he presses the red box into Jack's hand in place of the green one.

"No problem." Jack mutters, caught off guard at having that bright smile aimed his way. The man's eyes widen slightly and he tips his head a little.

"That's a nice accent you've got..." He says, clearly tiptoeing around the question just about everyone asks when they meet Jack for the first time.

"I'm from Ireland, originally."

"Really? That's cool," he smiles, eyes shining with interest. Jack's heartbeat flutters gently. "I've never been there, but I've always wanted to go."

"It's a beautiful place," Jack says, "but it's always rainin' there."

"Perfect," the man says, smiling in a way that displays his long canines, "I love the rain. I find it relaxing."

"Yeh, not so relaxing when you start to wonder if you'll ever see the sun again on its own..." Jack replies quietly. The man beside him laughs and it lights him up from the inside. What a glorious sound. They meet eyes and fall silent, Jack wondering if this man is even human, lost in his eyes.

"I'm Mark," he says. It's sudden, and it leaves Jack blinking rapidly as he tries to regain himself. "Probably should've started with that."

"Maybe," Jack mutters in response, thoughtlessly scrubbing at the back of his neck with an open palm. He clears his throat and introduces himself, voice cracking despite his best efforts to keep it from doing so. He can feel himself blushing and wonders if Mark has noticed.

"Nice to meet you, Jack." Mark says, and hearing his name spoken in such a sincere, dulcet tone is refreshing as much as it is nerve-wracking.

____________________

Mark's face looks eerily beautiful in the flickering light of the sparklers in his hand. He had joked that maybe the sparks would looks more green if he burned them all at once, and before Jack could tell him how bad of an idea that was he'd already done it. Now he's staring at the ball of sparks with an insane grin on his face, and Jack won't say it but he's a little worried the man might go blind staring at something so bright.

He turns to Jack, still smiling like the big dork he is, and raises his fist full of sparklers. "Need a light?"

Jack laughs openly, shaking his head. "Yeah, actually." He extends his arm, pressing the tip of his own sparkler to where Mark's are all burning close to the bottom. It catches after a moment, spraying barely-red sparks outward. Mark gives him an expectant look, only letting up when he uses the lit sparkler to start all the others going at once.

It's a stupid thing to do, certainly, but it's incredibly satisfying.

____________________

"We're gonna' go catch the show," Arin calls out as it's nearing 8:30. He starts pulling everyone up out of their chairs. Jack must look nervous or angry, because when Arin stops in front of him he seems conflicted. "You should come, too."

"I... I don't like fireworks that much." Jack shrugs, feeling out of place now more than ever. Before now he'd gotten away with not talking for the most part. He's not sure why he stayed, but now he feels strange. He doesn't know these people, he shouldn't be here...

"You don't have to like fireworks to have a good time, man."

"You'll have a lot more fun if you come with." Mark adds, smiling softly as he extends his hand in an offer. Jack hesitantly takes his hand, allowing the other man to pull him up from his chair. The palm of his hand is soft and warm against Jack's own.

The next few moments pass in a blur as Mark pulls him towards a truck in the driveway. Arin takes the wheel as designated driver, Suzy and Kevin joining him in the front. That leaves the rest of them all to clamber into the truck bed. Jack's heart is pounding as he contemplates wether or not he should back out. He's not even wearing shoes... When did he take his shoes off? He should find his shoes.

"Isn't this illegal or somethin'?" He asks, voice cracking embarrassingly.

"Not if the front seats are completely filled," Dan assures, smiling in a way that is calming as much as it is mischievous. It's a confusing smile. "Don't worry about it."

Jack worries about it. He pretends he's not worried as Mark and Dan both help him up into the truck. He pretends he's not panicking inwardly as they prompt him to lay down to remain unseen. He only stops pretending when, a few miles down the road, he catches the glare of police lights reflecting off of the little back window. On instinct, he reaches out to grab at whatever is to his right, which happens to be Mark's arm. The other man allows it, and after a moment places his own hand on top of Jack's, turning his head to shoot him a comforting smile.

"It's okay," he whispers, and even though Jack can see the lights flashing he feels like it is okay now. "There's no sirens, it's just crowd control."

Jack feels his stomach drop out, his face turning red. He should've realized. He screws his eyes shut tight and frowns, "right, of course."

It takes another agonizing four minutes for them to get past the officer, and by then the fireworks have started. The first loud bang had caused Jack to nearly jump out of his skin. Mark and Dan had chuckled at him, but it was clear they didn't mean any harm by it. After a moment he laughed along. Four more explosions later, Jack watched as the sky disappeared and was replaced by a cement structure. It was a strange sensation, to see the underside of a parking ramp passing over head like that.

Once parked, everyone sits up and begins leaving the truck. Jack stays close by Mark's side, feeling comfortable there more than anywhere else. He hates to admit to himself how infatuated he has become since he first met the man less than three hours before. Yet, when Dan and Arin dare each other to climb to the top of the structure through the center, up the thick metal cords, Jack feels a strange rush of bravery and a foolish need to impress.

With no concern for the fact that he still has no shoes on his feet, he rushes forward and grabs hold of the cords. Climbing is something he knows he's good at, and he confidently pulls himself up past three floors of cement and cars. When he gets to the top he swings his legs over to stand up on the floor, leans over the cord to peer down at the others. He feels dizzy looking down, and his heart begins pounding in his ears, but he fights against his fear and forces a smirk. Mark, Barry and Suzy cheer and whistle to him from below, but Dan and Arin both just stare at him with their mouths wide, defeated. Ross is bent over laughing a few feet behind them.

Arin insists, quite loudly, "we didn't know you were part of this!"

"Well, I still won, didn't I?" Jack calls back, grinning to himself. Arin mutters something under his breath that he can't hear, but which leaves Dan a giggling mess. They make their way up as the others take the stairs, leaving Jack with nothing to do but wait and watch the fireworks along with all the other people standing around up there.

Dan makes it up first, and the first thing he does is slap Jack on the back and congratulate him on being "more manly than Arin." Jack raises a brow at this, but he doesn't comment on it. A few moments later everyone has reconvened by the stairs, and they walk around looking for a decent spot. Once they've picked a place with a decent view, Jack notices that Mark and Kevin both disappeared. He turns in a circle, worried suddenly that one of them had gotten hurt or lost, but then he finds Mark. He has more questions than answers, now.

Mark has a pale pink tutu on over his jeans, and he doesn't offer any kind of explanation. When Arin sees him he asks where he got it, and he sounds jealous. Jack snickers quietly when Mark playfully scowls and says, "I'm not telling you."

"Well, fuck you, too." Arin huffs, but there's a smile hiding beneath his scowl.

"All you need now is a tiara." Suzy says, ruffling Mark's hair and smiling widely. Arin huffs to get her attention and she rolls her eyes as she leans to give him a kiss on the cheek. He's quiet and complacent after that.

Kevin shows up, seemingly from nowhere, and without a word he reaches up to plop a flower crown on top of Mark's head. Dan's laugh seems to echo, overpowering the sound of the fireworks. Jack can't help but grin and laugh along, because honestly Mark looks adorable, and Dan's laugh is weirdly infectious.

"That's cute," Jack blurts, and he wishes he'd sounded a little less sincere so he could play it off as a jab. Instead he swallows thickly, face flushing as Mark smiles so wide his gums show and bats his lashes at him.

"Aww, you really think I'm cute?" He asks, and it's so ridiculous that Jack can't help but laugh harder. He nods, though, and sighs.

"Yer' adorable."

____________________

The drive back from the firework show is no less stressful. Too many people want to get out of the parking ramp all at once, making the process of backing out of their parking space and getting back on the road incredibly difficult. Arin curses and shouts all the way back to Dan's house, and Jack isn't sure wether or not he should laugh along with everyone else.

They all hop out of the truck, still giddy from the fireworks, and when Jack's feet hit the grass he feels the sting of thorns. With a yelp much louder than he'd spoken all night, he jerked away, hopping on one foot while reaching to cradle the other. He has a crowd of worried eyes settled on him, and at least three hands outstretched in an offer of balance. He feels his face flush red, momentarily forgetting the pain in favor of embarrassment.

"You alright?" Arin asks while Mark fishes his phone out of his pocket and turns on the light to shine it into the grass. An angry cluster of thorny weeds shows itself, and upon seeing it Dan makes an "ahh" sound of realization.

"I meant to pull all of those..." He mutters, cringing apologetically. Jack frowns. He loves nature, sure, but thorny little bastards like those are just a pain. Literally.

____________________

"What do you want in life?" Mark asks, shifting just enough that his shoulder bumps Jack. There's a certain electricity to the touch that leaves Jack feeling almost nauseous, but also comfortable. He thinks hard, he really does, but he can't think of an answer to such a loaded question.

"I just wanna' be happy," he finally answers. "I don't know what I'll be, who I'll be with, or what I'll have. But if I'm happy, then the other stuff doesn't matter so much, I think."

"That's a good answer," Mark says, quiet and soft. "Good luck with that."

"It doesn't take luck to be happy..."

Mark turns his head to look at Jack, one brow raised slightly. His profile is lit up by the moonlight, flashing red when a neighbor's firework bursts in the sky with a bang. There's a wordless kind of understanding that passes between them in that moment; an admission of loneliness. Jack doesn't know how it happens, or why, but he feels it. A connection, a spark. Or perhaps that's just the glittering trails of a firework falling in his peripheral vision, implanting strange metaphors in his head.

"It's hard to find joy," Mark whispers, as if he may be afraid of his friends overhearing. "It seems there's not much left in the world."

"Maybe yer looking too hard," Jack replies questioningly. Mark shrugs and looks down at the deck beneath them. "Let it find you."

Jack's fingers twitch against his leg, the intense desire to reach out and take Mark's hand in his own almost impossible to ignore. His heart flutters briefly at the thought. In a moment of what he tells himself is a lapse in judgement due to alcohol, he allows his hand to move on it's own accord, slowly creeping nearer, until his fingertips gently bump against Mark's wrist and trail down to the back of his hand. Time seems slowed as they meet eyes, and Jack feels his heart wriggle it's way into his throat.

They lean towards each other, magnetized, drawn in slow and without thought. Their eyes fall closed, their noses bump slightly, and as Jack feels a little smile tug at his lips from the awkward gesture, Mark's lips find his in the dark. It's probably the softest kiss Jack has ever been given, and it's truly intoxicating. Mark's lips are soft, pliant, gentle. He kisses back with trembling lips. As he is raising his hand to caress Mark's cheek the door slides open behind them. Jack makes to pull away, startled, but Mark's palm fits to the side of his face, tethering him, their foreheads pressed together.

"Hey guys," Danny's voice comes from the open door, humor lacing his tone, and he sounds a little tipsy. "Sorry to interrupt, just gonna' go put out the fire..."

Jack worries his lip, eyes screwed tightly shut. His face is aflame with embarrassment, but Mark remains close, entirely unashamed. "Don't worry," he says with a cheeky grin, as if he'd read Jack's mind, "they won't judge."

Jack opens his mouth, and Mark stops what ever foolish word-vomit might have been to follow, placing a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth. Overwhelmed, Jack moves to hide his face against Mark's shoulder, clinging to him despite how awkward he feels. Mark is so warm, and something about his gentle embrace makes Jack feel safe.

The deck shakes as Danny trips on his way back up the stairs. Jack feels Mark's laugh rumble under his cheek, prompting chills to crawl up his spine. A moment later Danny is by Jack's side, grumbling quietly about how his knee hurts.

"I think you might've ruined a moment, Danny boy." Arin says from the doorway, and Jack peeks up at him from Mark's shoulder. He's grinning in amusement, winking when he meets Jack's gaze.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry guys." Dan says, gasping softly before leaning to hug them both, sandwiching Jack in between the two men. His cheek is squished up against the top of Jack's head and his voice comes out a little slurred, "I didn't mean to. You're both so sweet I hope you're not mad at me~"

"We're not mad." Mark answers with a chuckle. Jack nods in agreement, hiding his smile.

"Oh thank god," Danny whispers, one hand landing on Jack's waist as he tries to cling to them even as Arin pulls him away. Jack gasps at the touch, squirming a little. Dan whines, giving in after a moment and letting Arin lead him back inside. He shoots the two a little wink over his shoulder as he leaves, and Jack blushes harshly.

____________________

Jack had tried several times to text his friend for a ride, but to no avail. He sat on the couch in Danny's living room with Mark beside him, staring at the TV with tired eyes.

"Everyone's staying the night anyway, I'm sure it'd be fine if you stayed as well." Mark says after a while, one brow raised slightly.

Jack only shrugs in response, unsure if he should accept that offer. He doesn't know any of these people very well. He doesn't exactly feel threatened around them either, though.

Mark reaches to grab his hand, twining their fingers together. Jack melts at the touch, sighing and slumping into the couch, turning his phone over. There's probably not much use in trying anymore, he's not going to get a response. With a defeated sigh, Jack moves to curl into Mark's chest, letting him wrap him up in his big warm arms. With Mark's heartbeat under his cheek and the soft drone of some reality TV show in the background, it doesn't take long for Jack to drift off.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and constructive criticism are always welcome :)


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